


Breathless

by Valentina_Ivan



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valentina_Ivan/pseuds/Valentina_Ivan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone tries to strangle Inspector Lestrade</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> This is not Beta'd, brit-picked or med-checked. Just me, an idea and pint of frozen yogurt. Any feedback and comments are greatly appreciated.

It had been a long day, well long week actually. Lestrade shook his head, as he walked to his car. After he spent all week chasing leads, he had finally contacted Sherlock for help. He didn’t really want to, but he needed to solve it. Of course, the detective came swooping in, told him who did it while constantly spewing insults and debasing Lestrade and his team. They got the guy though. Lestrade had just finished his report before heading home for the evening.

He was thinking about stopping on his way home to pick up dinner, a new sandwich shop had just opened down the street from his flat, decided to try it out. It had been a painfully long time since he had been to the shops; there was almost no real food in his flat. He claimed he didn’t have time, but in all honesty he just hated doing it.

He had almost reached his car when someone came up behind him. Suddenly, he felt something tight around his neck. He was struggling to breathe, could feel the person behind him, whoever it was, was very large and strong. He grabbed at his neck, trying to get whatever was around it off; was kicking his legs wildly to get away. He couldn’t breathe, his lungs burned, everything around him going dark. He struggled to stay awake, clear the darkness but it was becoming difficult. It became hard to move his legs, his grip around the object on neck loosening as his strength began to fade. He knew he was going to pass out soon. All he could think was trying to get any air he could to his oxygen-starved lungs, his eyes were watering. The darkness was setting in, he couldn’t fight it anymore.

As everything went black around him, he felt himself falling. The pressure on his neck was gone; he was choking, hacking, gasping for air, trying to drag as much air into his lungs as he could. He heard someone calling his name, felt hands behind him pushing him up. His lungs were on fire, he couldn’t get enough air into them. His world was spinning, going black, he couldn’t fight it.

He was lying on something soft, there was something on his face, his chest was hurting, he couldn’t remember why, thought it might have something to do with the thing on his face. He reached up to pull it off so he could breathe, something stopped him, was keeping from getting the thing off his face. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t tell who was stopping him. Why were they doing this? Were they still trying to kill him?

He wasn’t sure where he was, but felt himself moving. Well, whatever he was lying on was moving. Something poked his arm. He didn’t know what but he was suddenly very tired, couldn’t keep his eyes open. He tried to keep them open, tried to fight it, but couldn’t, he finally gave up as his eyes slid shut and everything went dark again.

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“Do you really have to be so insulting though?” John was completely exasperated. Yes, Sherlock had solved the case and led Lestrade and his team to an arrest, but he was so callous about it.

“Well, if they weren’t all idiots I wouldn’t need to insult them,” Sherlock shrugged. He didn’t see what the problem was.

He and John were in the parking garage, hoping to catch Lestrade before he left. Sherlock had more information for him, didn’t want to wait.

They were approaching Lestrade’s car when they saw someone had a cord around the inspector’s neck, was trying to strangle him. The assailant was much larger than Lestrade, his enormous muscles straining as he pulled the cord tighter and tighter. Lestrade was trying to fight, but was losing consciousness fast.

When the man saw John and Sherlock, he let go of his grip around Lestrade and fled. Sherlock chased after him while John rushed to Lestrade’s side.

“Greg!” John cried as he dropped to his knees next to the inspector. He pushed him into a sitting position, trying to make it easier to breathe. He pulled out his mobile, called 999. Lestrade passed out. John wrapped his hand around the older man’s wrist, his pulse was racing and his breathing was ragged. John kept the unconscious inspector in a sitting position, propped against the car, so he could get more air into his lungs.

The ambulance arrived in just a few minutes. As the paramedics loaded Lestrade onto a stretcher, Donovan came running towards them.

“What’s happened? Heard something was going on in the garage,” She asked John, she cried out in shock when she saw Lestrade on the stretcher.

“Someone attacked him, was trying to strangle him. He ran when he saw Sherlock and me, Sherlock chased after him,” John told her.

“Which way did they go?”

John pointed in the direction Sherlock and the attacker had gone.

“Let me know when you get to the hospital,” She instructed as she took off in the same direction.

The paramedics were adjusting the oxygen mask on Lestrade’s face, were beginning to load him into the ambulance, one of them asked if John wanted to come along. John nodded and climbed in behind them.

Lestrade started coming to. He reached for the oxygen mask, tried to pull it off. John pulled his hand away to stop him. Lestrade tried to fight him; he was confused, becoming agitated. Kept trying to pull the mask off, didn’t seem to be able to focus. One of the paramedics pulled out a needle, stuck it in Lestrade’s arm.

“Just a sedative, help him relax.” The paramedic reassured John.

Lestrade’s eyes went closed after a couple of minutes. John held the inspector’s hand the rest of the way to the hospital.

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John met Sherlock and Donovan in the waiting room at the hospital.

“Did you catch him?” John asked them as they walked in.

“Yeah, hired muscle; was part of a gang bust Lestrade had couple weeks ago. Apparently he didn’t like that the inspector put his boss in prison.” Sherlock told him.

“How’s Lestrade?” Donovan asked. Tears were sliding down her cheeks.

“The doctors are still working on him. Haven’t heard anything yet.” John pulled out his handkerchief and offered it to her, she accepted it gratefully.

A woman in hospital scrubs and a lab coat walked toward them. She had short brown hair and glasses, was probably around 40.

“I’m Dr. Brody, are you here for Inspector Lestrade?” She enquired.

“Yes, how is he?” John asked anxiously.

“There doesn’t appear to be any fractures to his larynx or other bones, but we’ll have to wait for his x-rays to come back to be sure. There also doesn’t seem to be any signs of hypoxia, but I do want to keep him here for a couple days.” Dr. Brody informed them. “He is conscious though, which is a good sign. “

“Can we see him?” John asked.

“Briefly. He does need his rest.” She led them down the hall to Lestrade’s room. “Try to keep conversations short. It’s best if he limits his speech for a while.” The doctor walked back down the hall as the three of them entered.

The inspector looked up when he saw them enter; he was as pale as the blanket covering him, a nasal cannula under his nose, and a white bandage around his neck, just above the collar of his hospital gown.

“How are you feeling?” John asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Obviously not too great, someone tried to strangle him,” Sherlock said dryly.

“I’m not asking you, I’m asking Lestrade,” John snapped.

“Why would you ask a man lying in a hospital bed after he was almost strangled how he feels?” Sherlock insisted.

John started to retort, but Lestrade held up his hand, “I’m fine,” he whispered hoarsely. “Tell me you got the bloody bastard that did this.”

“We did sir. “ Donovan nodded.

“Good, “Lestrade nodded, tried to say something else, but he started coughing and gasping. John rushed to his side, helped him sit up and patted his back.

“Try not to talk too much Greg,” John instructed gently as he settled Lestrade back against his pillows.

A nurse came in and started fiddling with the monitors and IV stand.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. The inspector needs his rest. You can come back and see him tomorrow.” The nurse told them. John and Donovan nodded.

“I need to file my report anyway. I’ll get your statement tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it.” Donovan told her boss, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“We’ll be back some time tomorrow too,” John said. Lestrade nodded.

They said their goodbyes and left. John shook his head. He knew there had been some close calls when he started working with Sherlock, but this was too close. He hoped it wouldn’t happen again, but knew it probably would.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
